We stood at the serene path that sloped and meandered through the mountain range. Jagged, hostile rock poked through the inviting, tough grass, and wildflowers decorated the path in bright colors. In the distance, a solemn frame dragged by tired horses approached. As it got closer, the old wood and peeling paint told me my teacher probably wasn't royalty.
Three months without my phone, and I wanted to kick dirt or something to kill the boredom. Anything but stand here like a damn drone for an hour or so with...
Looking at the bird knight now, I still didn't know his name, so I resorted to small talk.
"So… lovely weather we're having, huh?" I started wandering around my spot.
"Now that you mention it," he said, looking up at the big blue sky sharply with a clink of metal, "Aye, the sky is a wonderful color for once!" I stared at him, and he stared back. "What, lad?"
"Oh… Naw, I jus' didn't think you'd say much about it." His pitiless, avian gaze held mine, and I looked away. The grass shifted in the wind, and in the brief silence, I glanced down curiously at a black-and-white centipede woven through the grass.
Where it began and where it ended bothered me because I could see where it started, but I didn't know how long it was.
The bird knight finally spoke. "While we wait a little longer, I'd like to ask a few questions. You hear me, boy?"
I looked back at him, confused. "Huh? Uh… sure, as long as you answer a few of mine."
He nodded solemnly and pointed up. "So, do your orange-haired people back home not talk about the weather?"
Breathing out a laugh, I responded, "Naw, it's just not the best line to start small talk with someone there, I guess."
He crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Hmmm… I see now."
"My turn," I said, pointing at the path of grass. The long bug was gone after a second. "What is that?"
The knight looked around me for what I was pointing at. "It was a long bug with black and white."
"Truly? And it disappeared? Hmph, well now there's a butterfly in its place." I dropped my hand and watched as the butterfly flew up and away in the wind. "My turn, then. What was life like where you crawled from?"
I sighed, long and hard, thinking about it. "That's a good question. Well… let me jus' put it like this. Smart ol' men, through generations, made my world safe and made weak people with tech and knowledge. We got comfortable and started making up our own problems." I shrugged. "Either way, life on Earth was nice… I miss it."
"…Fascinating. Care to share more?"
"I could tell you, but you wouldn't even know where to start because I don't remember how they made it." I kicked a stone down the mountainside.
The bird knight seemed like he was going to say something, but before he could, the carriage rolled closer. The door creaked as it opened, and out stepped a figure in a dyed black robe, the flares on each arm and leg wrapped tightly in grimy rags. Inside his hood was an ornate wooden mask carved into a sobbing face, and through the eyeholes, his strained grey eyes met mine.
The bird knight stepped forward. "Nosferatu, I'm glad you're here with us."
Nosferatu stroked his mask. "I… cannot say the same, goodman. How goes the war these days?" The bird knight didn't answer. "Hmph… now, let's not waste time, man. I came to teach, so where are my students?"
"Only one—this lad behind me," he responded.
Nosferatu's tired eyes narrowed at me, scanning me up and down. "Where is he from? I've never seen his breed before."
The bird knight shrugged. "Exotic boy we found at Baron and Chancellor Louise au Valoise's domain. But that doesn't matter; he seems intuitive with magic."
"Talent?" Nosferatu asked, dragging his feet toward me. His white stone cane acted like a third leg. "Do you have talent, boy?"
"No," I answered truthfully.
He grumbled something low, then his voice rose. "—worthy to teach. Boy, if you don't have talent here, you'll be gone and forgotten fast." He stopped, gripping the handle of his cane in thought. "What can you do?"
"Glyphs."
He slowly looked to the bird knight. "You dragged this kid off the street, didn't you."
The bird knight bowed. "My job here is done. I'll be off, sir," he said, his voice low.
He rose and marched away.
"That brat… huh, what will I do now," Nosferatu muttered to himself, then spoke to me. "Oi, forget that arts-and-crafts mare crap. I'll teach you real essence art. Walk with me." He headed off to the far side of the plateau, away from the base, his steps slow as he pulled himself along with his cane, hunched over.
I followed, I shiver at the biting gust of cold air rippling along the plateau.
"Essence art?" I asked suppressing clattering teeth.
"Craft, spell weaving, magic, mage-smiths, witchcraft… what do they have in common?" he quizzed.
"Uhhh… they all use magic," I offered.
"No," he huffed. "They all use essence." He corrected and sighed to the horizon.
I looked too. The sunlight shone in brilliant rays, and the tide of clouds seemed to chase it endlessly in the deep blue sky and yellowing skies. High above a sea of meandering green.
I could get lost at how beautiful it was to look at, but it lasted only a moment as I'm brought back with his grinding voice.
"Here's your first lesson. What we fail to understand about essence is that it is the breath of the foundation gods… and yet we yearn to refine it. How do we refine air?" He shook his head imperceptibly and continued, "We simply need to breath in and breathe out the essence. Breathe and breathe out a whirlwind, breathe in and breathe out fire..."
The next gust of air came stronger and longer than before, warmer strangely enough and it enveloped me like an a embrace chasing away the chills set in me. He was still speaking but I couldn't hear him over the the sound of the roaring winds.
He didn't speak for long though.
He reached his mummy hand out, and a haze distorted the air formed at his palm. It intensified suddenly to a spherical blurry raging mess that began turn a translucent tint of angry red. A fresh wave of scalding heat slapped me in the face. Through narrowed eyes behind the mask, the man stood there, tanking the heat like it wasn't scalding my eyes just looking at it.
He moved his open hand toward a tree, and without warning, roaring flames trailed the malicious sphere of it struck the tree 50 meters away in 2 seconds. The heat left, and I watched the tree burst apart and explode into flame.
My jaw dropped. Could I even do that? It was awesome but scary at the same time. The more I saw magic, the more I wanted to use it myself.
The man fell into a coughing fit for a moment. "The… air here is a bit thin for me," he rasped as he straightened his back. "Now, let's put that fire out before it becomes a problem." He weezed.
He sent a freezing sphere that snuffed out the flames. He turned to me.
"What... what spells are those called." Looking at the charred tree coated with a layer of frost.
Nosferatu looked at his bone dry hands, "Elemental bolts... that does not matter now." he slowly turned to me slowly with a sage like grace, his loose cloths billowed in the wind, the setting sun casting a yellow glow on his mask as his voice carried through unimpeded to my ears.
"You have seen my methods. Now you will learn why they are most effective."
—
As the temperature dropped to what must be a comfy negatives on this mountain, for the sake of his joints and mine we went to his carriage. He snapped a finger by a candle wick and it sparked to flams, he did the same motion around the carriage with practiced ease. The crarriage being rather spacious than what the exterior would have you believe. Dark, gloomy and decrepit is what it told me at a glance.
He sighed into the chair bolted down to the floor at a table equally secured and waited for me to join him. His strained eyes followed me to my seat patiently starting, "Have you ever wasted without tools to mediate it?"
"Yes" I answered reflexively, "Wait! Err, Nah- noise."
*